Blood on Her Cape
by paynesgrey
Summary: Peter is worried about Claire's decision to become a full time hero. Season 4 spoilers. Peter x Claire. ONESHOT. This will not be continued.


AN: Written for the "When You Come" poetry theme at pairechallenge on Livejournal. Season 4 spoilers. This is a one-shot and will not be continued.

Blood on Her Cape

When Peter finds her that night, she's lying in the street broken, bloody and dead, and as he pushes away that dread in his belly, he knows she'll soon revive.

He's grateful that there's no one around to notice her to call the cops or reporters. He wraps his coat around her and lifts up her body. He doesn't know why she's here, but after she calls him to come find her, he never expects this.

He looks down at her, his brow furrowing. _Jesus, Claire what did you do?_ Blood is caked on her clothes as her wounds start to close up, and he resists the temptation to wipe the drying red off her lips.

Quickly he rushes her to his home, and his medical instincts kick in. She's still unconscious when he lays her in the tub and starts to strip away her clothes.

ooooo

He feels wet and warm as he slinks his hand in the red water and draws out the sponge, wringing it before trailing it softly down her face. Claire's lashes flutter, and she darts her eyes around. When she sees Peter, she relaxes, even though she's naked, he's bathing her, and she sitting in a tub of water and her own blood.

She meets Peter's angry eyes. "What did you do?"

Her voice crackles. They tore that part away from her, but it's back, good as new like she's never used it before. "Some big men….they were trying to rape a jogger. I fought them, and gave them something else to focus on so she could get away."

Peter pauses. "Did they…touch you?" he asks hesitantly. 

Claire closes her eyes, and her breathing sounds heavy for a moment, but then she controls it. "Yes."

She doesn't cry, which Peter finds slightly odd, but he supposes it's not odd for her. Claire tears her eyes from his pitying gaze and stares blankly at the bathroom tiles, once white but now splattered with droplets of watered-down blood.

"It's okay," she says placidly. "I've been raped before. They can't hurt anything that just heals anyway."

Peter hesitates and draws the sponge away from her, not sure if he should be touching her after what happened and despite being a nurse. Claire looks up at him with her large eyes and gives him a sad smile before taking the sponge from his hands.

"I can do it now," she says. "Go to bed, Peter."

Peter purses his lips and glares at her. "You're wrong, you know. They _can_ hurt you."

"Yeah…You're probably right," Claire says with a laugh. "But someone else is out there whose body can't heal, and I just saved her life tonight."

"But Claire, you didn't have to…you knew what they were going to do," Peter argues.

"Being a hero means bearing the burden of others, Peter. You know that," she says, and Peter watches as she lightly lathers up the sponge and squeezes the water down her chest. He turns away when she slides it over her breasts.

He leaves the bathroom door open a crack, just so Claire knows he's waiting out there, ready for anything she needs.

ooooo

He hears her light knock, and before he can reply she's creaking open his bedroom door and looking at him, clean, dry and clothed in his T-shirt and shorts. The trace of the evening is gone from her except the memories that linger in her eyes.

"Can I stay in here tonight?" she asks boldly. Peter scrutinizes at her.

"Claire," he chides.

"I don't want to be alone," she says, but Peter knows she doesn't want to be touched either. Who would? Not that he would dare do anything.

He sits up from his bed and takes his favorite pillow and throws it to the floor. Claire clutches her own pillow and watches him as he pulls out blankets from the closet.

"Alright," he agrees, and he settles into a makeshift bed on the floor. He hears her rustling around under the covers on his bed. Her presence makes the room seem heavy, yet warmer.

Peter sighs and listens to her movements. He knows he's not going to get any sleep tonight. His brain is too active and his senses are ready to sprint. He knows that even if she wasn't here, he still wouldn't get any sleep. But at least she's close so he can watch her, so he knows that she's safe.

When Peter hears Claire's even breathing of her slumber he sighs heavily.

Who is he kidding? Claire is safer than he ever likes to admit.

He closes his eyes and tries to find his own sleep. He can't, and he lets the noises of the settling house echo throughout his mind.

ooooo

The next morning she's making them breakfast and Peter slides out of a quick shower and meets her bright smile after he gets dressed.

"How long will you stay?" he asks. He doesn't know if he's being rude or not. He's just saved (a bloody and deceased) Claire from the streets and the eyes of any lingering person who might report her to the media. Ever since she's exposed all specials months ago, they try to be discreet about using their powers. At least, Peter is one of many who avoid celebrity status. Claire, however, is not always so careful – nor does she really reject the celebrity.

Peter just wishes – and he knows this will never happen – that he can save Claire from something else, death or a broken heart. He knows that both are impossible. She doesn't see him as her hero from years ago; he just can't come to terms that their relationship has changed – that Claire has changed. (He supposes he's changed somewhat as well.)

"I won't get in your way any longer," she says with a heavy sigh and a cheeky smile. "I have a lot more to do."

"Claire, I know what you're doing. I don't… I don't think I like it," Peter says.

She tilts her head curiously. "I'm saving people." She turns her eyes away from him and bites nonchalantly into her toast. "I asked you once to join me. We could be a team, Peter. I thought you of all people would jump at the chance."

He shakes his head. "This world has enough heroes." _Thanks to you_, he adds inwardly, but he can see that she already senses his exasperation.

"Not like me. Not like us," she says.

"I don't like you getting hurt like that," he says. He scratches the back of his head and starts to pace the room. "I know you _can't_ get hurt, but thought of you letting someone touch you like that, like yesterday…"

"Peter…Come on," she says snorting. "You're over-reacting. I'm _fine_." 

"Just because you can heal your bones, Claire, doesn't mean you can heal other wounds no one else can see," he says.

She rolls her eyes like always when he gets like this. "_I know._ As I said yesterday, I took the trauma away from someone else, someone powerless. It's what I can do." He sees her eyes glaze over as she remembers her own past with assault. "As for my heart, well, I think I've become numb to feel anything anymore. It's become too scarred over."

They meet eyes, and Peter knows that he's one of the scars. He doesn't want to be, but he can't change the past. The conversation that changed everything between them still echoes within his thoughts.

ooooo

"_You know I love you, Peter, but I know we can't, not now and not like that. We're related," she says bitterly to him as she's packing her bags for France. Peter puts a hand on her wrist, and she stops, They look into each other's eyes, which say so much more than words._

"_I fell in love with you too, through the paintings, and with the very first time you told me your name," he confesses. He sees the relief on her face, that she's not the only strange one here, but the relief can only go so far. "But this is how things are." He purses his lips and his eyes appear desperate. "I still need you to stay."_

_Claire hesitates and tears are forming in her eyes. One falls down her cheek, and he reaches out to wipe it away. Instead, she stops his hand and backs away from him._

_She can't refuse him. He knows this, and he uses their love against her. When he tells her to shoot him if he explodes, everything is different between them. _

_She can't forgive him this, but she can't abandon him either, and he knows she never will._

ooooo

They've been through so much together, with Nathan, the Company and even Sylar and the Carnival, that it's become his instinct to humor Claire for all of her choices. He still doesn't like it, and he tells her sternly that there's a better way to use their powers.

She reminds him, too coldly and truly, that Nathan would want him to fight the good fight, and if he could fight along her side, even the better. Angela even agrees to fund their operations as well, even if she declines to work with them on the field.

"I just want you to know I don't like this," Peter says, but Claire ignores his morose tone. They're heading down a warehouse district where Claire's heard rumors of human trafficking. She wants to find out for herself and save people – innocent helpless victims that always seem to tug at her heart.

"This is what we're born to do, Peter. We have these abilities for a reason," Claire says.

He sighs. "I know. I save people every day," he says, thinking of his paramedic job, "in my own way."

"You're still mad about how I exposed everyone," she observes.

"I don't know if I can ever get over it," Peter replies. "I've seen too many futures where this all ends badly for us." He thinks about that one future, the one where she drags a scalpel over his flesh. "Where you lose your innocence."

She laughs softly. "I think it's already too late for that."

He grabs her shoulders and spins her around, his fingers digging into her skin. He glares at her. "I don't think so."

She brushes him off with a warning smile. "I think I know what your problem is."

Peter sucks in a breath, and waits for her to speak.

"You like being a hero, Peter. You always have. You just don't like being a hero next to _me_." Her voice drops, and he can hear raw emotion as her eyes look away from his. "You want me to be your cheerleader forever."

"No," he says quickly. He hooks his finger under her chin. "I want you to be _safe_ forever. You're all I have left, Claire. Nathan's gone, and my mother… I can't trust her again. You're it, Claire. You're it."

He pulls her into an embrace, and she snakes her arms around him. "Don't make me give this up, Peter. Don't. I feel like finally I belong, like I have meaning in my life."

"I know," he says, his fingers streaming through her long hair, no longer the golden blonde he remembers, but changed into a shade of hazelnut brown. "That's why I'm here."

"To micromanage me," she snorts, and then he laughs.

"No, to do what I always do, be your hero," he says, and she pulls out of the embrace and looks at him knowingly. "To fight by your side. I can't take the hero out of you any more than you can take the hero out of me."

"But?"

"But…" And he knows she expects this. "But I don't want to find you in the street lying dead or bloody anymore." He sucks in a long breath and shifts uncomfortably under her gaze. "So I've changed my mind about your offer. If we can avoid you taking the place of a potential victim, I want to be there."

"And I want you there too," she says, and her tone changes. "And as far as our relationship goes, you don't need to worry about me. Those feelings have long settled. I won't cross any lines that you don't want me to." She pauses and eyes him emphatically, trying to clear the air between them once and for all. "I know you, and you know me."

"So what is this now? We're a super hero team?" he says, and Claire smiles.

"Hiro would be so proud of us," she says humorously, and he puts an arm around her as they continue down to the warehouse.

He looks into her glittering green eyes, and he can see relief as he finally agrees to her new path. "Just remember what I said," Peter adds, matching her humor. "I'm not wearing any tights."

END


End file.
